The Embrace
by bonnyblonde
Summary: Daryl saved Carol's life yet again, but where do they go from here? My version of what happened between the time that Daryl found Carol down in the tombs and when he returned after leaving with Merle. Reviews are gleefully received! :)
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter 1**

Daryl stalked the perimeter of Carol's small cell, instinctively testing the edge of her recovered knife against the pad of his thumb as each passing second made him more restless. How much longer was Axel gonna be in getting a frickin' cup of water, for chrissakes?

Carol was gonna be fine – she _had_ to be fine. Least ways she wasn't bit, not that he could tell from just lookin'. The bloodstains that had soaked into her clothes more than likely came from the walkers she'd put down; she didn't have any teeth marks or scratches from what he could see. And sure she'd passed out cold as he rushed her back to their cell block, feeling as thin and brittle as twigs in his arms, but hell – she'd been without food or water for three days, fightin' for her life with no one to help her. It was a miracle she'd survived at all when the dead had been let loose in the prison yard.

He stopped suddenly and stared down at her, an unassuming slip of a woman sprawled unconscious on the bottom bunk. Her short greying hair was matted with grime, her forehead splattered with gore, her skin stretched and papery, her lips cracked and chapped. She had been a day away, maybe less, from dying alone in the dark - that knowledge chilled him to his bones.

Why hadn't she screamed for him when all that shit went down in the compound? Chaos or not, he'd have heard...he'd have come for her! Hadn't he always? It was stupid as all hell, hiding out in an isolation cell like she did – it was a fluke and nothin' more that he'd found her at all. Along with Carl and Oscar, he'd passed right by her twice without thinking to check what was really trying to push the cell door open. If he hadn't recognized the knife in the walker's swollen neck as the one he'd given her, he'd have walked away never knowing how she'd met her end.

Daryl started pacing again, unable to keep still. He'd thought she was gone, consumed by walkers with nothing left behind to resurrect. In the days that followed, he had turned his grief inward and nursed his wounded heart in private while life had simply – unfairly – gone on around him. He sure as hell wasn't about to let the others know how hollowed out and empty he felt, having her suddenly vanish like that. Like his mother...like Merle. People you loved shouldn't just...

Nope, stop right there. He squeezed his eyes tightly shut and shook his head as though trying to dislodge the thought. It wasn't love – he could almost hear Merle sneer at the suggestion that he was even capable of such a feeling. Sure, Daryl _cared_ about her, and why wouldn't he? She'd never looked at him like he was less of a man for being brought up so poor, never had she thought herself better than him. Made him feel like he belonged, that he deserved to be part of their group, had refused to let him pull away even when she was caught up in mourning Sophia's death. Had a heart as big as all outdoors, Carol did.

And strong! She was the strongest person he knew. It would have been so easy for her to give up after they'd found out Sophia had become a walker, to stop fighting and welcome death, but she hadn't. Instead, she filled her life with the rest of the group, kept herself occupied trying to make things as normal as she could for everyone else, even while losing her daughter had to be eatin' her up inside. She'd told him she felt like a burden to the group but instead of just whinin' about it and feeling sorry for herself, she'd set out to change all that. She'd learned to shoot and put down a walker with whatever weapon she had at hand. Better yet, Herschel had given her training in medical basics, imparting skills they were all in need of at one time or another…including Herschel himself when the man lost his leg.

Even before all that, though, Daryl had never thought of her as a burden. Rick mighta been the leader but it didn't take a genius to figure out that Carol was the real backbone of their makeshift family. Because of that fact, it seemed to him that the other members of their group had accepted her death a little too easily, compared to their reactions to losing Lori and T-Dog.

And him…well, he'd left her for dead, hadn't he? Mooned over an empty grave, laid a Cherokee rose on a little rock shrine and said a silent prayer that she and Sophia would find one another on the other side. Christ, what morose bullshit that was! Never did he think for a minute she'd be wily enough to survive on her own. Daryl's face went hot with shame at the thought. He shoulda had more faith in her, shoulda gone lookin' for her in the same frantic way that Rick had tried to find Lori, shouldn't have rested until he knew what had happened, good or bad.

"I got it!" called Axel as he scrambled around the corner, a tin can brimming with water in one hand and a fistful of what looked to be matted-up papers in the other. He held both hands out nervously towards Daryl, seemingly half afraid - well, probably ALL afraid, mouse of a man that he was – that Daryl might snap his little convict neck for the delay.

"Took ya long enough!" Daryl snatched the makeshift cup from Axel's hand, spilling a bit of water in the process, and glowered at him before turning to crouch at Carol's side. He gently slipped a hand beneath her slender neck and carefully tried to tilt her head up enough that he could pour the water into her mouth.

"Whoa, boy! Now hold up there!" Axel quickly grabbed Daryl's hand before he could give Carol a drink. Daryl went still and stared at the other man, more shocked than angry that Axel would have the balls to talk to him like that, never mind actually lay a hand on him.

"What did you just say to me?" Daryl snarled, narrowing his eyes in warning.

"Ya can't just go and give her water like that! She's dehydrated and out like a light. If ya don't end up pourin' it down her lungs an' chokin' her, she'll just be pukin' up the water if you give it to her plain!" Axel stepped forward and held his other hand out again, his ginger brows coming together in grave concern. "Ya gotta mix a bit of salt and sugar in there; she won't be able to keep it down otherwise. And ya should just start off slow…wet her lips a bit, get just a few drops in her mouth fer now."

"How the hell do you know all that?" Daryl eased Carol's head back onto the mattress. So that's what Axel had in his other hand – salt and sugar packets from the food cupboard.

Axel frowned and shifted uncomfortably. "Told y'all right off I had a habit I had to feed –I ended up in here for stealin' so's I could keep myself in E – y'know, Ecstasy. Stuff dries ya out like a raisin in the sun. I know firsthand what can happen if ya don't treat it proper like."

Daryl didn't comment further but instead held up the can so Axel could shake a couple of tiny portions of salt and sugar into the water. On the outside, in the past, Axel would've been just one more sad little man looking to feel good for a few hours even if it took poisoning himself to death to do it. Merle had a hundred guys like this on the ropes, ready customers for whatever crap he was peddling at the time. None of that mattered anymore, though. Who Axel was then…who they _all_ had been, back in the day…well, those folks were all good as gone. What counted now was that he was helping Daryl to get Carol back on her feet.

"Thanks," Daryl said grudgingly, swishing the liquid in circles until he figured it was mostly dissolved. Dipping his fingers into the lukewarm water, he slid a bit closer to Carol and dabbed at her cracked lips as gently as he could, wincing in sympathy as the solution soaked into the bloody lacerations. She didn't react but he kept at it, watching as water trickled slowly into her parched mouth. It was hard to tell if anything was going down but at least she wasn't gagging on it, so he knew he wasn't filling up her lungs.

"That's real good. Exactly, just a bit at a time," Axel encouraged, peering over Daryl's shoulder as though assessing his work. "Ya should prob'ly talk to her some, let her know she's safe now. She can hear ya, even if it don't seem like it. And if she wakes up, just let 'er have little bitty sips. She'll wanna gulp it, been a real long time since she…"

"What do you mean, _if_ she wakes up?" Daryl's fear spiked and his anger surged at the very idea. Axel cringed at his reaction, retreating a few steps towards the cell door as if to ensure an escape route should Daryl truly lose his temper.

"Don't be like that. I didn't mean anything by it, now. Actually meant to say, 'when', so I did," Axel rapidly assured him in an overly calm, deliberate way, as though trying to talk down a vicious dog. He held his hands up in surrender and Daryl almost felt bad for the way they shook. Almost. "I see ya got things well in hand here, so mebbe I'd best go see what Oscar's up to. I'll bring ya some more water in a bit. Holler if ya need us, we won't be far."

Daryl didn't waste time watching Axel scurry away; he immediately turned his attention back to Carol. "Hey," he murmured softly, "about time you got up, don't ya think? Place is fallin' to pieces without you. You had enough vacation down there in solitary. We need you here now."

He gave her a few more precious drops and then, unable to stand the sight of the crusted blood on her face any longer, he tipped a few spoonfuls of water onto the corner of her blanket. Ridding himself of the can for the moment, he worked on cleaning the worst of the rusty smears and spatters from her face. The sheer amount of gore that covered her, head to toe, was proof positive that she had put up an incredible fight…had been determined to live.

"Were you waitin' for me to find you?" he whispered as he gently blotted around her mouth. "I shoulda known when we couldn't find any sign of you that you'd just gone to ground. Playing a game of walker hide-and-seek, looks like. You tagged that bastard pretty good with your knife…hope you don't mind that I put him outta the game permanently."

The silence was filled with her short, shallow breaths, her chest barely moving beneath the bloody shirt that had dried fast to her body. Where his fingertips grazed her face, her skin was dry and hot, and he wondered if he shouldn't check her more closely for bites or cuts. When Jim's infection had taken hold, he'd burned with a bad fever, too. The process had been agonizingly slow and nothing he'd wish even on his worst enemy. It was one thing to die in a fight and then come back to life; another thing entirely to feel the hunger for flesh growing in your gut even as your body started to rot around you.

Daryl went cold to his core with dread. That couldn't be the way it ended for Carol, not after she'd endured so much. But if what he was seeing wasn't dehydration, she could be succumbing to the virus right in front of him.

Something close to panic rose within him. If he was faced with seeing Carol go through that transformation, could he put her down? He had tried to be strong all along, had proven capable of ridding the world of cloudy-eyed, shambling monstrosities without a second thought. What needed doing, he did. But Carol wouldn't be just another walker, any more than her daughter had been. Daryl knew now why Herschel had chosen to keep his family and neighbours corralled in the barn. Even though their souls had flown and all that was left behind was a relentless, hungry shell, what they had meant in the lives of those around them was not so easy to throw away.

If she was infected, he wanted to know before she started to transform. If he knew it was coming, maybe something more humane than a bullet through her brain could be done to spare her the torture of going through that. And if it came down to it, yes...yes, he would take care of it himself. He was pretty sure, though, that there'd be nothing left of him afterwards.

He shifted position and tugged the covers down so that he could take a better look at the blood stains on her torso. When he inadvertently brushed the tip of her nose with the edge of the cold, damp blanket, though, Carol gasped and her head weakly lolled to the side, her brow furrowing slightly as if in annoyance. Hope sparked in Daryl's heart and he cupped her chin in his hand so he could turn her face back towards his.

"Carol? You're safe now. I found you in the basement cell and brought you back to C Block. It'll be okay, I swear. Just wake up, okay?" he murmured, a note of desperation creeping into his voice.

She didn't open her eyes but instead parted her lips slightly as if to answer him. He leaned in close to listen and heard her make what sounded like a faint, hoarse sob. Probably couldn't do much more than that, not with her throat so dry. He went down on his knees beside her bunk and carefully slid his arm under her neck again, cradling her against his shoulder as he propped up her head. He retrieved the can, tilted the rim to her mouth and watched with no little satisfaction as the pink tip of her tongue tentatively licked away the few tiny droplets he dribbled onto her lips. "That's my girl. Lots where that came from, you're doing fine."

Carol's lacy eyelashes fluttered. "More…" she rasped quietly, lifting a shaky hand towards the cup so she could do exactly what Axel had warned him she might do. He just about wept with relief, though, when she uttered that single word and proved that she was regaining consciousness...and she was still Carol.

"Nah, you gotta take it easy at first," he chided softly, lifting the can out of her reach. His voice was strained and he tried to swallow the lump in his throat, determined not to let her know how close he was to giving into tears. "Lemme help you or you'll make yourself sick from it. Trust me, all right?"

She settled back against him with the slightest of nods. When he brought the water to her lips again, she weakly but purposefully wrapped her cool, thin fingers around his wrist and held on as though to assure herself that he was really there.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

Carol was startled by the loud clang of an iron gate being violently thrown open, but it wasn't until she saw Daryl come storming around the corner that she really understood that she'd chosen an inopportune time to seek out a little solitude.

"What the hell you doin', wanderin' off on your own like that?" he barked, striding over to where she sat on the cold metallic steps that led to the guard booth. "Figured that you might have learned your lesson about disappearin' without tellin' a soul what you're up to! Christ, you can barely stand by yourself and you decide to take a walk?"

He stood before her, one hand clutching her knife and the other tightened into a white-knuckled fist. Tension radiated off of him, from the quiver of the sleek muscles in his arms to the hard, thin line of his lips. It was a menacing look that she had gotten to know well but while it might have scared the crap out of someone else, she'd long ago come to understand that when he directed the brunt of his hostility at her, it was either because he was scared or because she'd forced him out of his comfort zone in some way. It was a defence mechanism and if there was anything Carol understood, it was the need to find ways to cope. Being beaten senseless by Ed on a regular basis had reinforced that for her like nothing else.

"I'm sorry, I wasn't thinking…" she said quietly, trying to calm him down, but he wasn't going to be derailed so easily.

"Damned straight you weren't!" he shouted, pointing his finger accusingly at her. "Who knows whatcha mighta stumbled over, strollin' around the place on your own? There's always somethin' crawlin' out of a hole 'round here. I told you I'd be right back! Why couldn't you just frickin' _wait_ for me?!"

"I'm sorry," she repeated, slowly leaning forward so she could wrap her fingers around his wrist. He didn't shy away like he used to when she touched him but he still eyed her warily. "Please understand – I shared that room with Lori. Her loss is still so new to me and with everything that she went through at the end...I got overwhelmed, looking at her belongings and thinking about her and the baby, and suddenly I just had to get out. I didn't mean to upset you. I get it…I should have just waited close by."

Daryl grimaced and cursed quietly to himself, seemingly torn between feeling guilty for hollering at her and the need to hold onto the head of steam he'd built up. "I didn't think of that. Just figured you'd want to be somewhere quiet and familiar. But when I came back and couldn't find you…"

Carol inched over to make room for him and tugged on his hand until he grudgingly lowered himself onto the same stair she occupied. "I'm not that easy to get rid of, y'know," she said lightly, nudging his knee with her own. "I'm sort of like a cat with nine lives. I didn't survive all those years with Ed just to pack it in now."

He perched on the edge of the step, pointedly avoiding her gaze as he rested his elbows on his thighs and chewed anxiously at a thumbnail. Finally he seemed to muster enough courage to glance over at her, and her heart clenched painfully as she read the anguish in those denim-blue eyes of his.

God, this was a man who felt everything so deeply! She wondered, and not for the first time, how someone with that much empathy had managed to survive an upbringing like he'd had. Merle had proven time and again that he wasn't exactly the sensitive type, which was more likely the rule rather than the exception in the Dixon family.

"This ain't a joke! I thought you were gone when the walkers took over the place," he finally blurted, his voice heavy with remorse. "Dead and gone. I wasn't even lookin' for you – I found you by _accident_. You could have died down there and I'd never have known it until..." He turned away, his fingers curling even more tightly around the knife's hilt as he struggled for control.

"Until I changed into one of _them _and came looking for fresh meat," Carol finished for him, both touched and saddened over his deep distress. She edged closer, pressing her thigh against his in a covert attempt at comfort. "None of us could have known what would happen that day. I don't blame you for any part of it and I won't have you blaming yourself. No one could have done more – no one has _ever_ done more – for me than you have, Daryl. You've been my guardian angel. Come to think of it," she teased gently, trying to draw his mind away from such dark thoughts, "I don't believe that those wings sewn on the back of your vest are there by accident."

Daryl huffed dismissively and shook his head but she saw the ghost of a smile on his lips. "Been called a lot of things in my life but ain't nobody accused me of being an angel before," he said gruffly.

"Sometimes when the world seems darkest, people can't recognize the blessings in their lives for what they are," she replied, resting her cheek against his bare upper arm. "But I've always known you were something special, even if there are those who can't see it." It was heaven having his warm, smooth skin against hers and she closed her eyes with a sigh of weary contentment.

He remained silent and it gradually occurred to Carol that she may just have revealed a little too much of her heart in what she'd said. She walked a frustratingly fine line when it came to Daryl Dixon, ever fearful that he might figure out that what she felt for him went way beyond friendship. While she secretly yearned for far more where he was concerned, she was unwilling to risk the closeness that they _did_ share already. After everything they'd been through together, she would rather die than ruin a good thing. If telling him of her love drove him away from her – and she was almost certain it would – she knew she'd feel utterly alone in the world, and she didn't think she could survive that.

But the problem was that while she had a few more years under her belt than did Daryl, Carol wasn't yet so old that she couldn't appreciate his lethal grace when he hunted, or the enthralling flex of his arms when he brought his crossbow up for a shot, or even the way tendrils of hair on the back of his neck would start to curl when the humidity was high. Combined with his amazing and surprising capacity for compassion and loyalty, was it any wonder she had fallen so hard?

No. If all he ever had to offer her was devotion and companionship, she would take it and be grateful for it. When every day was spent just figuring out how to survive long enough to see the next sunrise, it seemed selfish and small to want or expect more than he'd already given her.

"Carol? Hey..."

Her head snapped up at the sound of Daryl's voice and she blinked blearily, realizing that she'd nearly fallen asleep. "What's that?"

"You dozed off. Told you that you shouldn't be running around yet," he said, his rebuke decidedly milder compared to his earlier anger. He slipped an arm around her waist and helped her to her feet. "You're gonna have to get some rest. That woman who showed up at the fence is takin' us to where Glenn and Maggie are bein' held an' we'll need you to watch over the others when we go get 'em."

Although Daryl and the others frequently made trips from the prison for provisions, her heart stumbled in fear at the idea of Daryl riding off to face whoever had abducted the young couple. She wished she could beg him not to go, that Rick and the other men could handle the rescue on their own, but she knew that there was no hope of success without him. Rick might have been a cop but Daryl was a tracker and a hunter, far stealthier and more observant than anyone else in the group. Those facts were small consolation, though, and did nothing to ease the sting of having him leave without knowing for sure he'd come back again.

"Leave me be, I can look after myself," she said with sudden petulance, miserable at thought of his imminent departure. "I'll go have a nap in Beth's room – I'm sure she'll be glad of the company until her sister is rescued and back with the fold."

"Nah, they set up the baby's things in there for now," he said cautiously, frowning a bit at the change in her tone. He slowly turned her around and firmly guided her up the stairs. "Won't be any sleep to be had there – that l'il ass kicker can make a fuss when she gets goin'. You can crash for a few hours up in the control booth; least ways I'll know where you're at and that you're safe."

She gave in, unexpectedly drained of both the energy and will to fight him; in fact, she decided that there was no better place to recover her strength than stretched out on the very spot where Daryl slept every night. After all, she thought wryly, it was probably as close as she'd ever get to sharing his bed.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

Daryl stared down at the top of Carol's head as they took the stairway one slow step at a time, frowning at how suddenly her energy had seemed to lag. If he had any choice at all, he wouldn't be leaving her when she had only just started to heal. Carol was the one who always stepped up to look after everyone else...who was left besides him to look after _her_ when she needed it most? Herschel was still recovering, Beth and Carl had no idea how to care for someone, and Axel...well, he might have proven himself somewhat useful, but Daryl still didn't want him around Carol when she was in this state.

Their options were sorely limited, though. His instincts told him that time was quickly running out for Glenn and Maggie. There was no question that he, along with Rick and Oscar, would have to leave as soon as dusk fell if they were to have any hope of bringing those two back home alive.

It still amazed him at times how much the group's members had come to rely on one another, how quickly they'd bonded under such dire circumstances. He didn't doubt for a second that the missing couple believed wholeheartedly that their friends – their _family_ – would be searching for them.

That level of trust was utterly foreign to him before he'd met up with these folks. Unlike his fellow survivors, Daryl had been taught early in life that those who were supposed to care about you the most were the ones who could do you the most damage. In the end, it didn't pay to give a damn about others; you let people mean somethin' to you, you deserved what you got.

Given his history, then, it was astonishing to say the least that he'd gradually grown so close to Carol. Probably closer than he'd ever been to another person, matter of fact. He'd never known anyone who could see all the way through him the way she could...she wasn't afraid to confront him when he was being bull-headed but was just as quick to comfort him when she sensed he was badly in need of it. It was both unnerving and reassuring at the same time, having someone who understood him like that.

What had Daryl really wound up now, though, was that he'd experienced a deep, fundamental shift in his thoughts about Carol since she'd risen from the dead. Where he'd once been protective of her, he was now possessive. The idea of leaving her on her own, even if only for a short time, set his nerves on edge. And he wanted to touch her all the time, needed to be able to make sure with his own hands that she really had come back to him, safe and mostly sound.

At first he tried to explain it all away as a natural reaction to a near tragedy – she'd almost died, so of course he'd be more watchful, more vigilant. But that didn't account for the yearning ache he'd get in his chest whenever she caught his eye and smiled, or the unexpected chill that skittered over his skin when she happened to brush against him. Or the sudden, violent urge to pick up his crossbow and put a bolt through the eye socket of any other man who so much as glanced at her.

Where the hell had THAT come from? Oh, it wasn't as though he hadn't looked at Carol in 'that way' before...hell, as many hours as he'd spent with her, it would've been just plain _weird_ if he hadn't entertained thoughts like that once in a while. End of the world or not, he was as much at the mercy of those urges as any other red-blooded guy. But he'd handled it, so to speak, and had decided that neither of them needed that complication in their lives. There was no point in throwing everything else under the bus for the sake of relieving a little tension.

He might not be able to completely understand why his feelings had changed as drastically as they had, but what _was_ becoming very clear to him was that he wasn't going to be able to hold himself in check for much longer. The heart wanted what it wanted, as his mother had once told him, and right now there was nothing and no one Daryl wanted more than Carol Peletier.

Now if he could only figure out what do to about it, life would be a lot simpler.

His personal head trip was cut short when Carol suddenly stumbled on one of the steps and he had to tighten his grip on her narrow waist to keep her from falling. "I gotcha," he said, quickly tucking her knife into the sheath on the back of his belt so he had both hands free to help her if needed. "Hold on to me, woman...last thing we need is to have you go ass-over-teakettle down the stairs."

Carol rewarded his teasing with a quick smile before she slipped her arm around his hips and leaned into him slightly. He shut his eyes for a few seconds, sighing in quiet satisfaction at the feel of her body against his. The soft spikes of her hair tickled his jaw and he caught a faint whiff of the bright pink antiseptic soap she'd used to wash away the filth from her ordeal in the tombs. Funny how that fragrance held more appeal for him right now than any fancy perfume she might have worn before society had collapsed.

"You okay to keep goin'?" he asked, resisting the impulse to rest his cheek against the top of her head and breathe in her clean scent. Yeah, that was sure to impress, having him snuffling around in her hair like a dog on the hunt.

"I'm tired, is all. Not paying attention to where I'm going," she answered. "I'll be fine after a bit of a rest."

In another few steps they'd made it to the landing and he fumbled with the heavy key ring with one hand while holding fast to Carol with the other. Finally he found the right one, fought with the lock for a few frustrating seconds and then swung the door open before them.

"Sorry. It ain't much but I figure it beats sleepin' behind bars," he muttered sheepishly, realizing how dismal his tiny room really was. He reluctantly let go of her and subtly kicked some of his dirty clothes under the console so they'd be out of sight. Settling down on his haunches, he shook out his bed roll and straightened the blankets for her.

Carol followed him into the narrow booth, hugging herself tightly as though she were cold. She sat down in front of the control panel and idly swivelled the chair from side to side as she peered through the blood-smudged windows. "So why'd you move in here? Wasn't it comfortable on the catwalk?"

He laughed to himself. "Don't know about you, but I'd pretty much had enough of Glenn and Maggie goin' at it like rabbits while I was tryin' to sleep. I know they figured they were being quiet, but there ain't no secrets without proper doors. Nothin' bounces sound around like concrete walls. Grabbed me a mattress and bedding from one of the empty units and found myself a bit of peace 'n quiet in here."

"I don't blame them," she replied quietly. "Life's an uncertain thing nowadays...they're lucky to have one another. What they share probably keeps them sane."

"Don't mean I wanna listen to it." He punched the pillow a couple of times and tossed it to the head of his makeshift bed. "There you go...you got the best room in the place. I can close up the blinds on the windows manually, it'll be dark as night. I got the only key, so you can be sure no one will be disturbin' you."

"Maybe you could leave a bit of a gap so I have a little light," she said casually, flicking the lifeless switches in front of her back and forth. "I don't think I want to be left in complete darkness again for a while."

The tremor in her voice instantly caught his attention and he glanced at her, noting the troubled expression on her face. After what she'd gone through, he should have known she'd be skittish about being locked up alone in a dark room. God, he could be such an idiot sometimes! "I'll stay here until it's time for me to go. It'll be okay...you can close your eyes for a while and not worry."

"I'm sure you have better things to do with your time than keep the bogeyman at bay for me, Daryl," she stated determinedly, though the tremor wasn't entirely gone. "Leave me my knife and I'll sleep like a baby, I promise."

He shook his head, knowing that even if she actually meant it – and he doubted that greatly – he wasn't humanly capable of walking away from her right now. "Rick can handle things well enough all on his own…he's got Herschel patching up our visitor and it'll be a while before she'll be ready to hit the road. Besides," he said with a mischievous grin, pivoting on his heels to look up at her. "I wanna be sure you won't go sneakin' off again. Already got another rescue pencilled in for today; not sure I could handle more than that."

Rather than laughing at his words, Carol's neck and cheeks abruptly flushed crimson with embarrassment, and he felt like even more of an asshole. "God…I just…I _hate_ that you feel like you have to watch over me like that," she confessed irritably, swinging the chair around to face away from him. "You'd think after all this time and after everything you've taught me, I'd be able to stand on my own two feet. You shouldn't have to be constantly saving my butt."

Daryl grabbed the chair's cheap plastic arm, sudden anger surging through him as he twirled her around fast enough to make her inhale sharply in astonishment. "Don't do that!" he snarled, his teeth gritted in frustration...whether because of her lack of confidence or his own fraying control, he wasn't sure. "You act like I'm doin' you a huge favour or somethin', comin' for you whenever you need me. It ain't like that!"

Carol had pressed her hand to the base of her throat as though he'd truly frightened her. "What _are_ you talking about?"

He took a deep, bracing breath, trying to rein in his emotions enough to speak. He was so close to letting the truth spill out and yet he couldn't seem to find the right words. "I don't have another person left in the whole world 'cept you, Carol. If you fall, where will that leave me?"

Her gaze softening with sympathy, she reached for his hand. "You wouldn't be alone. The rest of our group..."

Growling in mounting exasperation, he shot to his feet. "You're not hearin' me! Why do you think I'm even here? Coulda made it on my own if I wanted, coulda left y'all behind and gone lookin' for Merle. I didn't stay for the 'group,' _okay?_ I stuck around for _you!_ And yeah, at first it was 'cuz I felt bad for you and your little girl, bein' on your own with no one to protect you, but then you started lookin' out for me too! With everything you did, you went 'n made me care about you more even though I knew better, and now..."

He stopped abruptly, clenching and unclenching his trembling hands. His heart was thudding hard against his ribs but it wasn't from anger. It was because he'd just stepped over the line – hell, _charged_ over it - and he knew there could be no going back.

Carol slowly rose from her chair and stood before him. "And now?" she prompted gently, catching him unawares by framing his face with her small hands. He was left with no choice to but to stare down into her beautiful, inquisitive blue eyes.

He swallowed hard, summoning his courage. "And now I'm thinkin' that maybe Glenn and Maggie got the right idea. They're stronger with one another than they were by themselves, y'know? And if somethin' happens...well, there would be sadness and grief, but at least there'd be no regrets. Rick...it's rippin' him up inside, not makin' things right with Lori before she died. I don't wanna be sorry I didn't have the guts to take a chance."

Her eyes widened in surprise and she gasped as understanding finally dawned. "You're talking about me...about _us_! You want us to be together?"

Daryl bowed his head until their foreheads were touching. "I don't have a clue how to make this work. Last thing I want to do is go and mess things up." His hands came up and gingerly rested on her hips. "You gotta help me. Christ, I can't even tell you what's happenin' inside of me..."

"Then don't talk," she sighed tremulously, blinking back tears that had suddenly welled up. "Just show me."

As their breath mingled, he carefully, shyly brushed his lips across hers...it wasn't really a kiss at all, just the barest of grazes. All the same, that brief caress was enough to set fire rolling through his veins, slow and smooth but scorching hot as molten glass. He caught Carol's soft moan in his mouth and smiled at the realization that she wanted this as badly as he did. It was what he'd been waiting for all this time and he hadn't even known it until it was almost too late.

She pressed closer, her lean body melding against his in a perfect fit. Feeling braver, he deepened the kiss, teasing her lips with small nips and licks until at last she submitted and opened her mouth to allow him a better taste. Sweetness like summer wine awaited him and he groaned in pleasure as it danced over his tongue, her essence flooding him with need and making him instantly hard as stone.

Daryl was so caught up in the sensations sweeping through him that it took a few moments for him to notice that Carol was suddenly trying to push him away, her palms flat and resisting against his chest. Breaking off the kiss, he stared at her through a haze of desire, confused and irritated that she'd put the brakes on long before he was ready to do so.

Breathing hard, she pulled back from him and touched her fingertips to her kiss-swollen lips. "What's wrong?" he rasped in puzzlement, trying to catch his own breath. "Why'd you stop?"

Her expression was a mixture of hope and wariness. "You have to swear to me that this isn't a one-time thing, some kind of knee-jerk reaction to my close call. I couldn't do that, Daryl...not with you. It would be worse than never having you at all."

She sounded heartbreakingly vulnerable, and it finally struck Daryl that although it had taken him forever to figure out what he wanted, Carol had been very certain for some time about how she felt. Even as that fact sent his spirit soaring, it humbled him to know how long she must have kept it to herself, knowing him well enough to see he simply wasn't yet ready to accept her love. Smart play on her part, given the way he'd reacted to some of the things she'd said to him in the past. On that basis alone, it was a miracle that she still felt about him the way she did now. He promised himself that he wasn't going to take her for granted again, ever.

"Havin' you disappear and then finding you again...that was just my wake-up call. This thing between us has been a long time comin'. From this point on, you're _mine,_" he vowed with fierce resolve.

Throwing his previous caution to the wind, he cupped the back of her head with one hand and kissed her hard, claiming her with more than enough passion to drive any lingering doubts from her mind. Greedily exploring the sweet softness of her mouth, he coaxed whimpers of longing from her that sent bolts of heat straight to his throbbing cock. Then she boldly slipped her hands beneath his shirt and he gasped out loud as she skimmed her fingers lightly over his twitching abdominal muscles and smooth, damp skin.

When the need to breathe finally forced them to draw apart, he looked down to see her slowly, sensuously lick the last of his kisses from her lush lips. The sight was almost enough to send him over the edge like some horny teenager, and he squeezed his eyes closed and gritted his teeth as he fought for the last shreds of control.

"So, Daryl," Carol purred as she looped her arms around his waist. "This place of yours, it's pretty romantic. Wanna screw around?"


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

Carol's heart fluttered in her chest as though it was trying to escape the confines of her ribcage. As many times as she'd dreamed about what it would be like to find herself in this very situation, it had never once occurred to her that it might actually happen. It was exhilarating and terrifying at the same time.

As she watched Daryl lower the steel shutters on all but one of the windows, the light in the room gradually dimmed until the walls were mottled with stark violet shadows. The pale orange beams spilling through the last uncovered pane of glass were all too clear a reminder that it wouldn't be long before dusk would arrive and Daryl would have to leave with the others.

The two of them only had a few hours together at best...and depending on what dangers the men might encounter during the rescue mission, maybe only a few hours _ever_. She had no intention of letting her nerves get the best of her now.

Having done what he could to ensure their privacy, Daryl turned around so he was facing her. When she saw his hopeful expression, Carol flew into his arms, causing him to stumble backwards a step before catching her in his strong embrace. His eyes shone with amusement at first but that changed the second she rose up on her tiptoes and captured his lips with her own.

Overwhelmed by the sweet intensity of such a simple connection, Carol moaned quietly and tangled her fingers in his hair, the sandy-brown strands damp and soft where they curled above his collar. She could go on like this forever, sharing the very air from his lungs and savouring the luscious taste of him deep in her mouth. The fantasies she'd harboured night after lonely night now seemed drab and grey compared to the vivid, technicolour reality of how he lit her up inside with his every touch.

The tendons of his neck shifted under her palm as he angled his head so he could take charge of the kiss, cradling her jaw in his hand as he twined his tongue with hers in a leisurely, intimate dance that sent heat pooling low in her body. Captivating scents rose up from the warmth of his body to fill her senses...the shady green balm of the forest in which he hunted, the faint odour of motorcycle oil, the salty tang of fresh sweat and the musky spice of masculine arousal. All of it left her dizzy with desire and unsteady on her feet.

She slid a hand down to his shoulder, thrilling at the way cords of solid muscle flexed as she ran her fingers lightly along his arm. Goose bumps rose on his skin and she felt a tremor move through him despite the swiftly rising temperature within the booth.

"I love that I can do that to you," she murmured, nuzzling his cheek. She more than loved it, actually. His reaction was proof positive that what was happening between them was truly mutual, something she hadn't really believed in her heart was possible until now.

Daryl tilted his head slightly and she shivered as his breath fanned hot against her ear. "That ain't all you do to me," he said huskily, his whiskers scratching the delicate skin of her neck as he spoke.

With subtle pressure, he backed her up against the wall and pinned her in place with his body. Even through their clothes, Carol could feel the thick, hard evidence of his need jutting against her navel and the rush of lust that surged through her was so overwhelming that she struggled to remember how to breathe properly. Primal instinct had her rolling her hips against his in turn, wanting him with a desperation she'd never felt before.

He exhaled sharply and seized hold of her waist to keep her still. Any sound of protest she might have made was stolen away with a kiss so devastatingly hot that if Daryl hadn't had her trapped between him and the wall, her knees would have buckled and she'd have collapsed. Her head swam at his delicious incursion, his tongue seeking out every sensitive spot in her mouth and drawing her tongue deeply into his at the same time. She clung to him, weathering the long-anticipated storm of his passion.

Determined to explore the sleek texture of bare skin, she sought out the buttons on his tattered shirt and fumbled to get them undone, groaning when she found her shaky hands simply weren't capable of such a complex task. Frustrated, she tugged harder and was startled when the front of his shirt suddenly tore completely apart, buttons flying around the room before they hit the floor and bounced off into the shadows.

Daryl pulled back, blinking in surprise. "You coulda just asked me to take it off," he chuckled, arching an eyebrow as he glanced down at the frayed threads and torn buttonholes on his shirtfront.

Shocked at her unusual aggression, Carol stared at him wide-eyed and covered her mouth with her hand. "I'm so sorry! That's not...I can't believe...I'm not like that! Really, I'm not! I'll mend your shirt, I promise!"

"Nah, forget it," he drawled, giving Carol a shy grin that it sent love surging through her. "It was about ready to fall to bits all on its own. B'sides, it was kinda worth the sacrifice - ain't ever had a woman try 'n rip off my clothes before."

"Well, it's a first for both of us, then," she admitted with a blush, unable to keep from smiling back.

He hesitated a few seconds before shrugging the garment off of his shoulders, letting it slide down off his arms before tossing it carelessly aside. The faint light outlined the well-defined contours of his torso beautifully, from the dusting of hair between his flat, hard pecs to his tapered midriff. He was lean and toned and every bit as stunning as she'd imagined in spite of the distressing network of scars that cut across his torso.

When he saw how intently she was gazing at him, he went red with shame and rubbed self-consciously at the marks as if he could somehow erase them. "Sorry," he muttered, crossing his arms in front of him. "I know they're ugly…"

Her heart shattered into a thousand pieces for the hurt that had been done to him early in his life, and for all that he carried within him still. "No!" she declared, grasping his wrists firmly and forcing him to uncover himself. "No. What's ugly is what was done to you. I could never look at you and feel anything but love. To me, you are perfect."

With infinite gentleness, she curled a hand around his neck and drew him down for another kiss, this one slow and soft so that it would call out to his heart every bit as strongly as to his body. "I wish I could take away all the pain that was inflicted on you, wish I could punish those who thought it was okay to treat a little boy like that.," she said, tracing one of the ragged lines that ran side to side across his midriff. Carol couldn't even imagine what awful things had been done to him that would have left such deep, permanent welts, wasn't sure if she even wanted to know. "But the man who gave you these scars…the one who gave me mine…they're gone now. You and I, we were stronger… we _are_ stronger than both of them in the end."

His skin burned hot and his heartbeat thundered under her palm as she bent to softly kiss a line along the jagged, shiny stretch of skin she'd been touching, smoothing her hand over his ribs at the same time. When she looked up again, she saw his eyes glisten before he gathered her in for another hug, his arms cinching around her so tightly that he nearly squeezed the breath from her lungs.

"Never had anyone look at me like you do...like I'm the only other person in the world," he confided quietly, his moustache brushing her temple as he spoke.

She smiled to herself as she splayed her fingers over his back, loving the way his muscles shifted and flexed as he held her. "Never? I find that hard to believe."

Daryl remained silent for a few seconds as though struggling to find the words before she felt him shake his head. "Most of the women that came 'round our place were lookin' for Merle, just strung-out users wantin' to trade a piece of tail for the next hit of whatever dope he was pushin'. Decent folks stayed as far away from us as they could, 'specially after my mom died." He sighed deeply and nestled his face in her hair. "Carol, you're the first I felt this way about...the first I ever cared about like this, you know? I mean...that I've loved."

It wasn't exactly poetry but his meaning was unmistakable and heartfelt, and she knew what it had taken for him to even say those words out loud. She tilted her head to the side, catching his mouth with hers again and pouring all of her emotion into the caress of her lips on his. He was right...so far as she was concerned, he _was_ the only other person in the world right now, for her.

As she shaped the curve of his ribs and the flat planes of his abdomen, revelling in the ripple of muscle beneath her fingertips, he stared at her with such longing that a shiver skittered over her skin. She brushed her nails over his nipples and he moaned softly, his breath hitching in his lungs as she ducked her head and tongued delicate circles around each stiff, ruddy tip in turn.

"You're gorgeous, you know," she sighed, her exhalation on his damp skin causing him to writhe against her. Every physical response Carol was able to coax from him made her feel strong and utterly feminine at the same time. Loving Daryl made her feel like a woman again, and she would take no end of satisfaction in having him lose himself in her touch.

"Guys ain't gorgeous," he growled peevishly, and she laughed softly before kissing his bottom lip.

"If you could see yourself the way I see you, you'd think differently," she breathed against his mouth before stealing another kiss, one that was far more demanding and ravenous than she'd dared initiate before. He returned it every bit as fervently, pulling her against him until her breasts were pressed flat against his sweat-slicked chest.

He suddenly broke away with a gasp, his eyelids heavy with lust. "I want…I need to see you, too."

She swallowed hard and nodded, stepping back from him on slightly unsteady legs. As he bunched the hem of her shirt in his hands, she raised her arms and he peeled off her tank top. As the cooler air hit her skin, she found herself wishing that she'd taken the time to put on a bra again after she'd washed up, that there was even one extra layer between them before he finally saw her, flaws and all. What if she saw disappointment replace the hunger on his face? It had been a long hard winter, and she had far fewer curves than she used to. She was too plain to really be considered pretty, anyway, and heaven knew she was too old for him by far…

Daryl's breath caught in his throat, that one strangled sound dispelling all her insecurities in a heartbeat. "Good lord, but you're beautiful," he murmured quietly, gazing at her with such awe that Carol flushed with happiness.

No one, not even her unlamented late husband, had ever called her beautiful or moreover, made her feel that way. That Daryl sincerely thought so was almost enough to make her cry.

He reached out but stopped just short of touching her, and she was surprised at the boyish uncertainty she saw when his eyes flicked up to meet hers. It was sweet and endearing to see the same man who'd never faltered in the face of danger hesitate when faced with the prospect of physical intimacy. Fighting the urge to smile, she gently took his hand in hers. "I'm yours, remember?" she whispered, stepping close as she pressed his palm to her tender breast.

Both of them gasped at the moment of contact, the sensation of his calloused hand against her sensitive skin causing her nipple to tighten into a pert little bud. Her head fell back as he pressed soft, wet kisses along the column of her neck and cupped her breast reverently, caressing her as though he was touching something sacred.

"You feel so good...smell so good," he moaned as he bowed his head, his breath skimming along her breast bone in a descending trail of kisses. "Gotta know how you taste..."

Carol whimpered and sank her fingers into his hair as he took her nipple into his mouth, enveloping her with a hot, moist heat that sent streams of fire straight to her core. His lips tugged lightly at her fleshy, hardened tip while his tongue flicked and swirled against her, teasing her with agonizing thoroughness until she thought she might scream in frustration. When she arched her back and clutched his head firmly to her breast, Daryl drew her nipple past his teeth and sucked hard enough that she felt powerful, answering tugs deep in her pelvis. Her eyes rolled back and she cried out loudly, skirting the edge of a climax as she trembled in his arms.

His breath came in harsh bursts of warmth that tickled her skin as he took her other breast in hand and repeated his gentle assault there, driving her even closer to finally losing control. The growing pressure at the crux of her thighs demanded attention, and she looped her calf around his leg so she could bring him in close enough to rub the hard ridge of his erection against her throbbing mound. He clutched her ass and wedged in even closer, grinding himself against her as a wordless, rumbling sound that was half-growl and half-plea spilled from his lips.

""Daryl," she keened, her voice raw and breaking on his name. She languidly opened her eyes to find him giving her a look of such predatory need that it stole her breath away.

He guided her away from the wall and backed her up to the console's edge, grabbing her by the hips and lifting her onto the narrow, cold metal work space. She squeaked in surprise as he tucked his fingers into the waistband of her khakis and pulled hard on them.

"Up," he commanded impatiently, and she obeyed without even thinking about it, placing her palms flat on the desk's surface and raising herself. He yanked her pants over the curve of her ass and down her thighs, leaving her covered in nothing more than a small white triangle of cotton. He struggled for a few minutes to work the bunched-up material over her cowboy boots and Carol couldn't help but snicker.

"Might want to try and take the boots off first," she suggested with feigned innocence, trying her level best to keep from grinning.

He narrowed his eyes and gave her a wry look as he pulled her boots off one at a time and tossed them aside. "Didn't wanna waste more time than we already have," he answered, finally working her pants from her legs and throwing them away heedlessly into some dark corner.

When he stood up straight again, she hooked his hips with her feet and coaxed him between her legs. He came to her eagerly, nudging her thighs far enough apart to press the hot, hard bulge in his jeans against her pulsing centre. She swivelled her hips provocatively and his eyelids fluttered closed, his lips parting sensuously as a shuddering sigh broke from his throat.

When she reached for his belt, her fingers bumped against his stiff arousal as she worked the strip of leather free of the buckle and he sucked in a hissing breath, bracing himself by slamming his hand onto the desk beside her with a sudden bang. She sat all the way up and nuzzled his neck as she unzipped him, licking away the beads of sweat that had trickled into the hollow of his throat, and delighting in the intoxicating taste of his skin.

Without his belt holding them up, his heavy jeans and all his weapons slipped over his lean hips and down his legs, hitting the floor with a muffled thud. Carol bit back a moan as she saw the way his straining length tented the front of his boxers, and a rush of slick moisture soaked through her panties as her body prepared itself for all that he had to offer her.

She palmed him through the soft, worn fabric of his underwear, and he twitched heavily in her hand as she traced the shape of him from head to base and slowly back again. His chest heaved and he made low sounds of pleasure as she stroked him, and she flushed deeply at the stunningly erotic way his face contorted at each touch.

"Now," she implored, the empty ache deep in her womb more than she was able to bear. "I need you now."

Daryl groaned and rocked his hips against her, both of them crying out in equal parts impatience and desire. "Not...not on the desk. Don't want it like that," he panted, his voice rough. "Please… get down on the sleeping bag...I want to lay with you. I want to do it right."

She climbed down off the cool, metallic ledge and kissed him once more before lowering herself to the floor. As she settled back onto the downy comfort of his makeshift bed, she stretched her arms above her head and arched her back. His sharp intake of air let her know that the very deliberate display definitely wasn't lost on him. When she began trailing her fingertips over her breasts and then down along the rise of her hips to slip off her panties, he started swearing profusely under his breath and fumbling with the laces on his hiking boots.

"You're killin' me here," he growled, and she smiled secretly as he sent his jeans sliding across the floor almost the second his boots were off. Standing over her, he curled and uncurled his fists as he took her in from head to toe, staring at her with such single-minded concentration that she wondered if he wasn't trying to commit every inch of her body to memory.

Carol waited for him for several long moments before passion won out over patience. She tucked her legs beneath her and sat up, kneeling before him as her hands drifted over the swell of firm muscle in his calves and then his thighs. A slow, virulent heat blazed in his smoky blue eyes as she grasped the cuffs of his boxers and tugged them gently downward, exposing the only part of him she'd yet to see.

She sat back on her haunches and bit her lip, stunned by his naked form. Daryl was beautiful – God, he'd hate that word even more than 'gorgeous', she knew – but it was the only adjective that suited. The long column of dusky flesh curled up towards his abdomen from his heavy sac, his thick shaft crowned with a broad, plum shaped head that bobbed in time to his pulse. Together with his wide shoulders and slim waist, and all the way down to those well-defined legs dappled with dusty brown hair, he was sin personified and utterly irresistible.

"Lay down with me," she said, tucking her hand into his and holding tight as she reclined back onto his bed once more. As he followed her down, she spread her legs so that she could cushion him with her body, and she sighed with bliss at the feel of his hard, heavy weight pressing down on her pelvis.

He propped himself above her on one elbow, caressing her cheek worshipfully with his fingertips. "I know there's more we could do but I just can't wait any longer," he murmured apologetically. "It's just, you make me feel...it hurts too much, I need to be inside of you."

"I want that, too," she replied, tears of joy in her eyes as she lifted her head so she could take another tender taste of his lips. "It's been too long already."

She reached down between them and took him into her hand, stroking him and smoothing the fluid that had already leaked from him over the engorged head of his penis with the pad of her thumb. His breath caught in his lungs as she tilted her hips and guided him to her entrance, and he slowly slid into her with a deep plunge that had her seeing starbursts behind her eyes.

Both of them went utterly still, and Carol felt him trembling against her as her own body rippled, stretching to try and accommodate his rigid length. Coherent thought was impossible, never mind speech...just as well, really, because nothing she could say could begin to express how he affected her on every level. Maybe for once in her life, something _wasn't_ too good to be true.

Making a sound halfway between a gasp and a whimper, he buried his face in the crook of her neck and panted hard before he started moving again. He rode her slow and easy, sweet torture that had her lifting her hips to receive every leisurely, heavenly thrust. "You're like...like silk inside. So soft...Carol, oh...fuck..." he groaned, and she clutched the taut globes of his ass, desperate to take him even further into her.

He was so fierce and yet so gentle that she fell in love with him all over again. For a time, she fought the rushing tide of her climax, wanting to draw the moment out as long as she could. But the strength of the emotion in her heart combined with her profound physical response was too much to resist and in the end, she gladly surrendered herself to it. She cupped his face in her hands and kissed him passionately as she came with a force so exquisite that she was left temporarily senseless. She sobbed as she was undone, remade, and complete again all at once, her fingernails digging into his skin as she struggled to handle the realization of the one thing she'd dreamed of so often.

Her orgasm unleashed something within him and he began pounding into her, a primal growl rising from his throat as his hips slammed against hers with increasing force. She began to spiral upward again, the feel of him moving so vigorously within her sparking new and devastating responses that drained and elated her at the same time.

They came in unison this time, Carol screaming out his name as she clamped her legs around his waist, head kicking back and back arching as wave after wave of pleasure surged through her. He gritted his teeth and shook, bucking in the cradle of her hips as he spent himself within her.

Daryl all but collapsed against her, his head resting on her breast as they both struggled to catch their breath. Feeling at peace for the first time in nearly a year, Carol speared her fingers through his sweat-soaked hair and savoured the feel of his naked body against hers.

"I wish we could stay like this forever," he whispered, and her heart contracted painfully with the knowledge that it could never be anything more than a fantasy for either one of them. They had stolen some time in a world gone mad and it was the best that they could possibly hope for. Nothing that had happened between them would change the reality that awaited them outside their tepid little room.

It had, however, changed everything inside of her. "I wish that, too," she said quietly, content for the moment to bask in the heat of the man she had loved for so very long.


	5. Chapter 5

_Thank you to everyone who took the time to review my story thus far - I can't thank you enough for your kind comments and encouragement. Thank you to my beta RF for her commitment and assistance and to all of you who love this wonderful little ship...Long Live Caryl!_

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**Chapter 5**

In the years following his mother's death, Daryl learned pretty damn quick that any kind of physical contact was something to be avoided. It had started after Merle had taken off to join the service, leaving Daryl as the last available target for their father's rage. If Daryl passed within arm's reach of their ol' man, it almost always resulted in a brutal whipping that left him unconscious and bleeding all over the floor. Any time he forgot about keeping his distance or staying carefully out of sight, he ended up paying a heavy price.

There'd been no one willing to stand up to his father about what was happening, nobody who really gave a flyin' fuck about some battered kid from a dirt-poor backwoods family. As the months and then years passed and the abuse continued, he figured maybe those folks didn't bother doing anything to help him because they thought he deserved it.

Worse yet, he came to believe that was true too, and maybe that was why he stayed for so long when anyone with a lick of sense would have hit the road long before. As his father often reminded him while beating Daryl to within an inch of his life, he only had himself to blame for not having his mom around to protect him anymore. If he'd just stayed home and looked after her instead of going off to play with his friends the day that she'd been too drunk to know she'd set her bed on fire, he would have been around to put out the flames and save her life.

By the time Merle got kicked outta the military and came back home, Daryl had stopped blaming himself and instead turned responsibility for his miserable fuckin' life back onto his mother. She had always gone on about how much she loved him, had hugged him close and called him her beautiful blue-eyed boy, but what she felt for him clearly hadn't been strong enough to keep her from committing suicide with cheap wine and smokes. Daryl got why she'd want to escape through drinking – she had borne the brunt of his father's fury for far longer than either of her sons did – but the fact that she would kill herself knowing she was leaving them behind to face that hell on their own had been far more devastating in the end than anything his father had done. Why didn't she just take him and Merle and leave? Hadn't they been worth saving?

For years he wore that anger like a bullet-proof vest – besides Merle, no one was allowed anywhere near him. Every gesture of friendship or affection was met with suspicion and bitterness...not that there were a lot of those gestures, but he sure as hell wasn't willing to let someone close enough to rip his heart out again. He'd believed without a doubt that his brother was the only one who'd ever cared about him in the least and as far as he was concerned, that was just fine.

But who he'd been before everything had gone to shit – that kid who was so desperate to be loved, desperate to be held and cherished again – well, he'd never really disappeared. He'd just been hiding, waiting for someone who could see past the anger in him, who would understand his pain and heal his wounds. Someone who wouldn't betray his trust.

And against all odds, he'd actually found her...ironically, though, it had taken the world coming to an end for it to happen.

Getting to know Carol and seeing what she'd gone through with her dickhead husband helped him finally understand all that his mother had endured. He realized that his mom hadn't wanted to leave him, had in fact loved him just as much as Carol had loved Sophia. The fact was that there'd been nowhere for either woman to go, no money for them to run away and, in the end, no place they could have gone that would have been safe. His father had made his mother believe that she was every bit as worthless and helpless as he made her feel, and in the end the only way she could deal with it was by drinking herself into a stupor.

He had to let all that stuff go, had to forgive his mom at last for something that wasn't her fault at all. Besides, there was no room left in his heart now for all of those old hurts.

Daryl lay on his back with Carol nestled against him, her cheek resting over his heart and her legs entwined with his. There was shelter in her arms, he thought, absently skimming his fingertips over her freckled shoulder. After years of not letting another human being lay a hand on him, all he wanted now was the sensation of Carol's fingers on his skin and the warmth of her body against his. It was about so much more than sex, 'though just the thought of what it was like when their bodies had joined instantly jacked up his heart rate and sent blood rushing to all the right places again. Touching her, having her touch him…he knew at long last what it was like to be safe. Grounded. Loved. This was what 'home' probably felt like for normal people.

Carol stretched and sighed softly, her breath a wispy caress across his chest as she ran her fingers lightly over his skin. "You okay?" she asked. "You've been so quiet."

"Better than okay," he murmured, rolling onto his side and shifting position until they were face to face. There wasn't much light left in the room now that the sun had started to set, but it was enough for him to make out the undisguised affection on her face. He lightly trailed his hand over the valley of her waist and then along the rise of her thigh, grinning at her. "Better than _ever_, actually."

Her eyes sparkled with happiness beneath the dark fringe of her eyelashes. "It suits you, you know."

"What suits me?"

"That smile," she said, gently tracing his bottom lip with the pad of her thumb before she leaned in and gave him a lingering kiss. "I think the whole time I've known you, I've seen a genuine smile on your face maybe twice. It's nice...even nicer to think I might have had something to do with it."

"_Everything_ to do with it," Daryl corrected as he kissed her in return, loving how soft and yielding her mouth became the instant their lips met. She gasped quietly when his tongue sought out hers, and he caressed the delicate flesh inside her mouth with long, drawn-out strokes that soon had them both clutching at one another with renewed longing.

The first time with her had been nothing short of astounding, better than he'd ever imagined it could be. She'd shown him patience, kindness and warmth...well, what had he expected? That's who she was; he'd seen proof of that in a thousand ways for as long as the group had been together. What he _hadn't_ expected was how hot their passion would burn once ignited, how freeing it would be to reveal the truth of what they truly felt for one another, how she became even more beautiful as she gave herself over to physical pleasure. _He'd_ done that to her, made her cry out in bliss..._him._ Part of Daryl couldn't quite bring himself to believe it...Christ, what he knew about pleasin' a woman could be written up on the inside of a matchbook cover, with room to spare. When the two of them had finally come together, however, the shared intensity had been breathtaking, all consuming, and utterly undeniable.

He wanted to experience that just once more before he had to leave, desperately wanted to give her a memory at least as powerful as the one she'd given him. At least then they'd both have something to think of in those dark, quiet moments when they couldn't be together.

He felt Carol tremble as he skimmed his fingers along the soft skin on the inside of her thigh and she parted her legs, welcoming his tentative caress. At first he wasn't sure if she would want him again so soon, or if what he was doing would make her feel even half as crazy with lust as he already was. When he touched her between her legs, though, her breath caught in her throat and she rocked herself against his hand.

Fire rolled through his blood in response and he quickly grew so achingly stiff that he groaned out loud. Her wet heat against his palm and the heady scent of her need made it increasingly difficult to focus on anything but taking her again… _now_…, but Daryl wanted to be sure the time was right. The last thing he wanted was to embarrass himself by rushing things before she was ready or worse yet, cause her pain.

He reluctantly broke their kiss so he could watch her expression as he slid his fingers past her sparse, furled hair and further into her slick, hot folds, gently fondling her. When he brushed his thumb over the tight little bead hidden at the top of her cleft, her eyes suddenly flew wide open and she dug her fingernails into the hard flesh of his arm. He hastily tried to withdraw, with the awful certainty that he'd done something wrong, but before he could pull away completely, she clamped her fingers around his wrist with surprising strength and halted his retreat.

"Yes, there...please," Carol whimpered, her eyes fluttering closed as she moved against him again in a slow but unmistakable tempo. "It feels so good when you touch me there...my lord..."

His own need hammered through his veins with such force that he felt light-headed, but to have her lose control just from what he was doing now...fuck, he would gladly put off his own satisfaction forever if he could push her over the edge and watch her fly.

Daryl buried his face in the crook of her neck, kissing away the faintly salty droplets of perspiration that dotted her skin. "Ya gonna come for me, girl?" he growled against her shoulder, slowly slipping his fingers down along her slick cleft and back again, making her buck her hips each time.

Carol cried out and fisted a hand in his hair, holding him close as she thrust against his fingers. His rigid cock jerked against her stomach whenever she pumped against his palm and he couldn't help but echo her movements, pressing himself with growing urgency over and over against the smooth softness of her belly. Her chest rose and fell against his with each ragged pant, her hard nipples rubbing his chest as she clung to him and submitted eagerly to his increasingly forceful attentions.

"Kiss me now," she demanded with a husky whisper, and he lifted his head to do as she asked, taking possession of her lips with a hunger so strong that it almost frightened him. He could feel her pulse thrumming between her legs, her blood surging rhythmically against his knuckles as he pushed a finger up into her tight little opening.

He caught her scream in his mouth as it burst from her lungs, kissing her more gently as her limbs locked up and she convulsed in waves around his finger. She was still shaking and quivering with delicious little aftershocks when he rolled over to cover her body with his and bury himself to the hilt inside of her with a deep, penetrating plunge.

She moaned and flexed weakly against him but he knew he couldn't even begin to move, caught as he was in her rippling, velvety grip. If he so much as twitched, it would be over all too soon for both of them, and he sure as hell wasn't having that. Daryl dropped his forehead to her breast, panting hoarsely against her hot, damp skin and muscles tensing as he summoned every ounce of restraint he had while he felt her climax gradually begin to wane.

Almost as if she was deliberately testing his self-discipline, , Carol dragged her fingernails down the sway of his back to caress the swell of his ass, tracing delicate patterns on his taut skin that had his eyes rolling back in ecstasy. Despite being dangerously close to coming, he couldn't help but grind against her, the soft haven of her body too tempting to resist for long.

He slid his hand down her thigh to her knee, lifting her leg over his hip so he could drive himself deeper. Her breath shuddered as it left her lungs and she writhed helplessly beneath him as she sank her nails into buttocks. The stinging pain only further fed his hunger and he rode her hard, half-afraid of hurting her but completely unable to hold himself back any longer.

She met him stroke for jarring stroke, and he could feel the sweet, telltale spasms grasping at his cock that signalled her building orgasm. He raised his head and cupped her cheek in his hand, holding her so he could watch as she lost herself in pleasure yet again.

"Look at me," he hissed, his teeth clenched as he felt the now familiar burn in his belly and rising pressure growing in his balls. "Carol, please..."

She lifted her heavy lids and gradually focused on him. He groaned to see the adoration on her face, knowing in his heart that he wasn't nearly good enough for her but wanting to believe that he could be if he just had enough time to prove himself.

"Daryl..." she rasped, her breath jagged as she started to seize up around him. "Oh God...I love you, you have to know that..."

His release hit him with shocking suddenness and he cried out as he shot himself into her with long, almost agonizing bursts. Carol pushed herself against him, arching up and mewling as she willingly took everything he had to give her.

Daryl slumped against her as they gasped for air, burying his face in the hollow of her throat where her pulse still raced wildly. If there had been any doubts about the strength of his feelings for this beautiful, tender woman, this new intimacy had crushed them for good. No woman – no _one _–had given him what Carol had and he could do nothing less than give her everything he had in return. Sure, doing so might open him up to a world of hurt down the road, but he had to either let her in all the way or keep her out completely, and since there was no way he was going to let her slip away...well, the decision had been made.

Loath to pull away from her warmth but mindful of how heavy he must be, he rolled off of her and stretched out at her side, tugging her back against him so that that her ass was nestled in his lap and his arm was slung over her hip. They laid together in silence for a time, and he savoured the comfortable quiet of the moment. He could think of nothing to say, at any rate...what they'd done, what they'd shared, had said it all.

It was too good to last, of course. From the cell block down the stairs and around the corner, Daryl could hear the growing rumble of voices and clatter of weapons as the others began preparing for the rescue mission. The time that he and Carol had managed to steal away was running out.

"They're going to come looking for you soon," Carol whispered sadly, weaving her fingers through his and kissing his knuckles.

"Guess I'd better think about getting back, then," he sighed in disappointment, pulling her closer so she fit even more snugly against him. He nuzzled the nape of her neck, closing his eyes as he inhaled her scent and wishing with everything he had that he didn't have to leave her. Not now, not after they'd finally found one another in this way.

He wanted to swear to Carol that he'd be safe, to reassure her and say the rescue would go smoothly and they'd all be none the worse for wear when everything was said and done. Both of them knew better, however...and she'd never ask him to make a promise they both knew might be impossible for him to keep. Too many members of their group had already fallen in shocking and unexpected ways. And while he liked to think that he could handle pretty much any situation just fine, it wasn't only himself that he had to look out for any more.

Carol shifted, turning over until she met his eyes again. She kissed him softly and then leaned her brow against his. "Wherever you go, you'll be taking my heart with you," she said quietly, laying her palm against his cheek.

"You got mine, too," he answered gruffly, holding her tightly for a few precious seconds more before he finally got to his feet and began to pull together his clothes.


	6. Chapter 6

**A thousand thank-you's for the wonderful reviews...that you find this story compelling and entertaining means the world to me. Another thanks to RF for setting me on the right path with this chapter, what would I do without my beta extraordinaire?**

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**Chapter 6**

Carol had only just pulled the guard booth's door closed behind her and was starting down the stairs, self-consciously straightening her wrinkled clothes, when Beth came hurrying around the corner from the cells with a squalling, red-faced infant in her arms and a look of alarm on her face.

"Carol! Oh, there you are…thank God! Can you help me, please? I can't get the baby to stop crying. I checked her diaper and she's just been fed, but nothing I try seems to be working. I figured you might know what to do. Normally Daryl would take care of her when she gets like this, but he's busy with Rick…"

Carol's eyebrows popped up and she paused mid-step, forgetting for the moment that the girl had caught her exiting Daryl's room. "_Daryl_ takes care of her?" she said, unable to keep the disbelief from her voice.

Beth broke into a grin and giggled. "Maybe she thinks Daryl's her mom or something – he was the first one to feed her after she was born, so I think they've got a bond between them now. He's really good with her, I gotta say. When no one else can calm her down, he can get her settled right away."

Still trying to process that revelation, Carol descended the remainder of the steps and held out her arms for the bawling baby. The child's little hands were balled into fists, her knees were pulled up against her tummy, and her tiny face was screwed up in a heartbreaking expression of pain as she wriggled in discomfort. "Oh… shhhh…. yes, I know," Carol cooed, holding the baby to her shoulder and patting the little one's back. "I know it's hurting, sweetheart…we'll get you better, don't you worry."

Beth's brow was knitted and she was biting her lip with concern. "What's wrong? Is she sick?"

Kissing the soft crown of the baby's head and inhaling the wonderful newborn scent, Carol smiled understandingly at the teenager. "No, she's just gassy, is all. Probably sucked in some air while she was feeding. Sophia went through that, too, before I figured out how to hold the bottle properly. We just have to help her work that out and she'll be right as rain."

Sitting down on the step, Carol stretched the baby chest-down over her forearm, cradling the small head in one palm while she gently rubbed the child's back. "Just a little pressure on your tummy, right? That's a girl, come on now…" The baby squirmed restlessly until a surprisingly loud burp emerged from her gaping mouth, and both Carol and Beth laughed at how the rather undignified sound reverberated off the walls.

Carol turned the sniffling baby over and tucked her into the crook of her arm so she could gaze into the infant's sweet, fat-cheeked face. As she did so, though, she felt an unexpected pang of grief so powerful that her heart stumbled for a beat or two. It was impossible not to remember how it had felt to hold Sophia the exact same way, how she would finger her soft baby-blonde hair and smile into her daughter's face.

Babies…they were all about possibilities, all about the future. But Sophia's path had been set even before she was born. Between her father's violent temper and the outbreak of the virus that ultimately resulted in her death, there hadn't been any chance to really know what kind of person Sophia might have become. Twelve years…twelve short, brutal years, and then she was gone, torn out of Carol's life for good.

The baby reached out with a chubby little hand and snagged Carol's finger, tightening her hold as though clinging to a lifeline. What kind of future did this little girl have ahead of her? As terrible a reality as Carol and her own daughter had faced every day in the shadow of Ed's abuse, it was nothing compared to the world in which they were going to have to try and raise Rick and Lori's child.

She had failed as Sophia's mother…she understood that now. Loving her daughter more than anything on earth hadn't been enough; she should have taken her away, should have fled to a shelter far away from home and tried to bring up Sophia on her own. While it was true that Carol had never allowed Ed to lay a finger on their daughter, Sophia had still been irreparably scarred by having to watch as her father hit her mother. As a result, the girl had led a fearful life, bereft of the normal, carefree delights of childhood. Maybe the end result would have been the same; after all, so few had escaped the unholy appetites of the walkers. But if only Carol could have given her a few years of happiness first…

The newborn stared up at her with eyes wide with innocence and wonder. My God, there was such so much uncertainty ahead for all of them, never mind such a tiny, helpless being. And although nothing could be done about the kind of life they all had to live now…always fighting, always on the run…Carol hoped that there would be at least a little joy ahead.

A hand gently settled on her shoulder and Carol looked up to see Beth regarding her with a kind of sympathy that was well beyond her years. "I can take her back if you like. I didn't even think about…your…well, I know this must be hard for you."

Carol shook her head and smiled past the tears that swam in her eyes. "No, I'm fine. I haven't held a baby like this for so long, and it looks like she's starting to drift off. How about you let me look after her while you take some time for yourself?

"Oh sure! She seems really happy with you. Besides, she needs lots of looking after, so maybe we could share the job sometimes. Rick, there's too much going on with him to expect him to do anything with her, Carl's not too good with the whole diaper thing," Beth continued, wrinkling her nose at the thought, "and Daddy…well, being a vet, he was always more comfortable with baby animals. Right now it's mostly me…and Daryl, I guess, when he's around."

As if Carol needed another reason to love Daryl, knowing that he had a way with babies only served to make him all the more appealing. Just the thought of that man cradling an infant in those muscular, bare arms made her ache for him again.

"If you need any of her things, Carol, there's a whole set-up in my cell. She should be okay for a while, though."

"Thanks, Beth. We'll be just fine, won't we…uh…" Carol paused and frowned. "I don't think I've heard anyone say the baby's name yet. What _did_ Rick call her?"

Beth's eyes twinkled mischievously as she turned to take her leave. "Rick didn't, Daryl did. And you'll have to ask him about that yourself. Let's just say you won't find it in any baby book!"

* * *

"You named the baby, '_L'il Ass Kicker_? Honestly, Daryl…I thought you were kidding when you said that earlier," Carol admonished gently, instinctively rocking from side to side as she cradled the slumbering infant in her arms. She'd followed Daryl into the store room where they kept their weapons, wanting to spend as much time as she could with him before the men hit the road.

Daryl flashed a sheepish grin as he shoved extra boxes of ammunition into Rick's duffel bag. "Seemed to suit her at the time. Besides, with a name like that, she'll have to be tough."

She raised her eyebrow sceptically. "And Rick was okay with your choice?"

He paused and shrugged, his smile fading as he started packing again. "Rick ain't been doin' too well lately; I don't know that he's even thought about the baby very much, ne'er mind figuring out what to call her. I think he's comin' back 'round now, though. Sure as hell hope so, anyway, if we're gonna accomplish anythin' tonight besides gettin' ourselves killed."

Carol's heart clenched painfully and she grew still. "Don't say that…please."

"You heard what that Michonne woman said," he muttered, crouching to pull another set of bolts for his crossbow out of the locker. "The guy in charge of this town is a real psycho. Runs the place like the Hotel California…folks can get in but they can't ever leave, not if they like being alive. Who knows what he'd do to people who dared mess up his personal little Jonestown fantasy?"

She turned away slightly and fidgeted needlessly with the baby's outfit, shivering as fear crept through her veins like ice water. Daryl's flippant remarks aside, she had a horrible feeling about what the men were about to walk into. In that moment, and knowing it was wrong even as she thought it, she almost hated Glenn and Maggie for allowing themselves to be captured. Those being left behind at the prison stood to lose so much...if the situation went all to hell, how would they survive without the two strongest members of their group? A weary middle-aged woman, a crippled old man, a convict, two teenagers, and a baby...the odds weren't exactly in their favour. The truth was that certain death awaited them without Rick and Daryl.

But Maggie and Glenn were _family_. Both had put their lives on the line a hundred times for everyone else, and would no doubt do so again in the future if given the chance. How many times had the other survivors risked their lives to search for Sophia, futile though it had been? Or selflessly ventured away from the security and safety of wherever they'd been holed up in order to search for food, water or medicine? All the members of the group, herself included, owed it to them to come to their rescue now that they were in danger...in the end, the men had no choice but to fight to save their own. When it came down to it, the only thing they had was each other.

If she was being honest with herself, though, it came down to this...she really had no idea how she could carry on if Daryl was taken from her. She'd told him while he'd been searching for Sophia that she couldn't lose him, too...it was the closest she'd come, before today, to telling him how she really felt. If both her daughter and her lover were gone, then what would be the point of living?

As if answering her unspoken question, the baby chose that exact moment to cry out, a brief, plaintive wail that tugged hard at her heartstrings. Before she could comfort the child, Daryl instantly abandoned what he was doing and strode over to her, reaching out his arms.

"Here, let me take her for a minute," he said, and Carol passed the infant over to him, watching with fascination at how quickly the little girl settled in Daryl's embrace, and at how tender his expression grew as he looked down into her tiny, trusting face. Beth had been right; there was a bond between these two that was really special.

"Hey there, you gonna look after my best girl for me, L'il Ass Kicker?" he murmured warmly, running his knuckle gently over the baby's downy cheek. "I need you to keep her safe 'til I get back, okay?"

Carol pressed her hand against her chest, the poignancy of the moment so touching that her heart actually hurt. "Looks real good on you," she said softly as she watched him cuddle the baby, wishing with every ounce of her being that for just a little while, the world could be what it had been once again, and that what she was seeing now could be his future..._their_ future.

Even if by some miracle everything returned to normal, though, Carol had long ago ensured that she would never again feel new life growing within her. It had been bad enough having one child witness the humiliation and abuse to which Ed had subjected her daily – the thought of having any more children with him had been too terrible to contemplate.

And up until this very moment...this very _devastating_ moment...she'd never had cause to regret her decision.

"Daryl, do you wish..." she began, knowing that she was setting out to torture herself even by asking. "I mean...is this something you want? A child of your own? A family?"

He frowned and shook his head with what seemed like resignation. "No way. Bringin' another baby into the midst of all _this_...that just wouldn't be right. Lori maybe shoulda thought about that while she was bangin' half the KingCounty sheriff's department. It's gonna be tough enough tryin' to keep this little one healthy and out of harm's way, ne'er mind adding to the..."

He stopped abruptly, flicking his eyes up to hers in alarm as the hypocrisy of what he'd just said about Lori's lack of precautions finally sunk in. "We...you an' I...didn't use anything...I never even thought...Christ, do you think...?"

The fact that he was upset about maybe knocking her up rather than being hopeful about it wounded her a bit, even though everything he'd said was true...it would be irresponsible and dangerous to let such a thing happen, never mind the fact that it was physically impossible. Carol forced herself to smile reassuringly. "You have nothing to worry about, trust me," she said a bit too brightly, crossing her arms over her chest. "It was taken care of long before I met you."

Daryl stared at her intently for a heartbeat before an understanding of why she'd even asked dawned on his face. "_This_ baby needs us, Carol," he said solemnly, closing the gap between them. "It don't matter that she ain't our blood...this group, we're all kin now, and that means she belongs to you 'n me, too. You're the important one, though. Outta all of us, you're the only mother she's ever gonna know."

Carol nodded and swallowed hard despite the lump in her throat, refusing to give in to tears yet again. It was ridiculous to mourn something that was never a possibility in the first place. She reached out and took the baby from him, snuggling the squirming little bundle close to her breast. "I'm not so sure about that," she forced herself to say teasingly, looking at him slyly from beneath her eyelashes even as the ache in her windpipe persisted. "From what Beth tells me and what I've just seen myself, it seems like you've already filled that role nicely."

He chuckled and she couldn't help but join him, so sweet and rare was the sound of his laughter. "That one's just jealous that the baby loves me best. Ain't that right, sweetheart?" he said, ticking the baby's palm until her tiny hand closed tightly around his finger.

"I think I'll take her outside for a bit, catch the last of the sunshine and give her some fresh air," Carol announced suddenly, rearranging the blankets around the baby's kicking legs as she tried to dispel her morose thoughts. "That'll give you a chance to finish what you're doing. You don't get out there soon, they're going to start thinking we're up to something naughty in here."

She turned to make her way to the door but Daryl caught her elbow before she went very far, halting her in her tracks. "Carol, you gotta know...just havin' _you_, that's enough for me, okay?" he whispered, his voice rough as they locked gazes. "I don't need more than that."

The sentiment was bittersweet...it was exactly what she'd needed to hear, and yet at the same time, she could be losing everything today if something went wrong. Turning back towards him, she balanced the baby's weight on one arm so she could wrap the other around his neck and pull him down for a soft kiss. He hugged her gently, mindful not to crush the infant between them.

"We'll wait for you outside, okay?" she murmured, taking one last, quick taste of his lips before she pulled away. There'd be no chance for such tender goodbyes outside, not with everyone watching. Neither of them was ready to go there yet.

She held his intense gaze as she backed away, staring deep into his blue eyes and revelling in the love she saw there before she opened the door and walked out into the fading sunlight.

* * *

Carol watched as the group packed guns, knives, bolts and whatever else they could possibly use in their arsenal so they could face off against the so-called 'Governor.' She didn't understand why he couldn't just leave them in peace...they were just trying to survive; they weren't out to hurt anyone else. But she supposed that just like Rick, the Governor figured that he couldn't afford to trust strangers if he was going to keep his own people safe. They'd had far more cause to fear the living than the dead over the past year, after all. Hopefully he could be convinced that they didn't pose a threat and would release Glenn and Maggie without bloodshed.

From what they'd been told about this guy, she didn't really believe it would be possible, but that didn't keep her from praying that would be the case.

Daryl came down the stairs behind her, carrying the last of his gear. His hand settled briefly on her waist. "Stay safe," he said quietly, and as she looked up into his face, her heart skipped a beat at the secret, unspoken emotion she saw there.

"Nine lives, remember?" she answered softly, and his gaze fell one last time to where the baby wriggled in her arms. Carol hid her trepidation and smiled bravely as he walked away, taking her heart with him as he left.


	7. Epilogue

To all the readers who sent me messages and posted reviews over the course of this story…you made me SO happy with your feedback, it meant the world. Thank you, thank you! You inspire me. And as always, I could not have done it without my amazing beta, RF. Her edits and suggestions improve every single thing I write and I am so lucky to have her assistance.

As much as I hate to wrap up this story, it was only ever intended to capture a single moment in the show...between the departure for Woodbury and Daryl's eventual return. And while it would appear I've reached that point at last, I have really enjoyed writing for this amazing couple and will likely do so again soon. In the meantime, I truly hope you like the last instalment of 'The Embrace', and I thank you for tagging along on this fictional journey.

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**Epilogue**

_A couple of days later..._

Daryl took the steps to the second floor of the cell block two at a time, needing to get the hell away from all of the heated arguments before he ended up takin' a swing at someone. How could a reunion with his brother, something he hadn't dared dream was even possible, turn into such a cluster fuck? His people needed to get over themselves and accept that Merle was stayin' put, and that there was nothin' left to discuss.

Except...he totally understood where they were coming from.

As much as it had meant to him to find his brother, he almost wished that Merle hadn't followed him back to the prison after their confrontation in the forest. It would have done Glenn and Maggie a world of good if his older sibling had just faded away like a ghost into the dark shadows surrounding Woodbury instead. In fact, while even thinking it tore his heart out, he had to wonder if it wouldn't have been best for _everyone_, including him, if he'd never seen his brother again.

Life had been a lot different without someone around constantly yankin' his chain or paintin' him into one corner or another. Hell, life had been _better_ most of the time, if he was going to be totally honest about it. He had missed his brother, no question there...but there was a lot about Merle that he'd be all too happy to never have to deal with again.

It spoke volumes about his friends' loyalty that Merle was still walkin' around and drawin' breath after what he'd done to Maggie and Glenn, all in the name of finding Daryl. The man was being barely tolerated, not accepted – and certainly not trusted. And although his brother had been uncharacteristically subdued since they'd returned to the prison, Daryl didn't believe for a minute that would last long. He only hoped that when the storm finally broke, the target of Merle's rage wouldn't be someone within the group. If that happened, Daryl knew he would have another tough choice to make, and he was pretty sure his brother wouldn't come out on the winning side the second time 'round.

His decision to turn his back on the other survivors and leave with Merle had hurt them; that much had been easy to see. After risking everything to get him out of Woodbury safely, what they likely saw as Daryl's betrayal had cut them deeply. Worse yet, going off with his brother had very nearly cost the rest of them their lives...if he hadn't had a change of heart about where he really belonged, if he hadn't finally grown a pair and walked away from Merle, the people who had been his family for nearly a year would all be dead.

Not that coming back had made everything all better. Not by a long shot.

As disappointed and upset as most of the group had been about his choice, Carol had been truly devastated. Rick had taken him aside and let him know in no uncertain terms what her reaction had been, had told him bluntly that taking off without a word and leaving someone else to break the news to her had been a real gutless move.

On some level, he had to have known exactly that when he'd saddled Rick with the responsibility, but he'd justified it by convincing himself it would be so much easier on both him and Carol if he just left and avoided going through a painful parting. With one dumb-ass decision, Daryl had crushed her heart under his heel as though all those things they'd said...all those things they'd _done_...had meant nothin' to him.

He'd told Rick as he'd left with Merle that she would understand...and he didn't doubt that she eventually did. But that didn't mean she'd ever forgive him for it...and she shouldn't, he didn't deserve a second chance. The consequences of what he'd done became patently clear when he'd walked back through the gates into the compound just hours earlier. Carol had silently stared at him, blood splattered across her face and tears shining in her eyes, before she'd simply turned away and disappeared behind the heavy steel doors that led to the cell block.

He now knew without a shadow of a doubt that what he had done made him no better than her late husband Ed when it came down to it, even if he hadn't used his fists to inflict the pain. The way he'd abandoned her just when they had come together was likely all the proof she needed that in the end, he was too broken to love or be loved.

Daryl rubbed at his eyes as he made his way along the catwalk, passing the barred gates as he sought out a little solitude. Knowing that she was likely off looking after the baby, he dared to glance into Carol's vacant cell on his way past and was brought up short by what he saw within.

His belongings...every insignificant, worthless piece of crap from his room...were laid out as though in anticipation of his return. Old weapons, ragged clothes, his bedding and a couple of tacky mementoes he'd bother to snag before leaving home were all there. And although none of it was anything he'd lamented leaving behind, it was crystal clear that it all meant something to Carol...simply by virtue of having been his.

Taking a few steps inside, he glanced around the room, his heart sinking like a stone in his chest. It truly hit him then – all that he had gone through when she'd disappeared, when he'd believed her dead – his grief couldn't even touch what he'd put her through. As much as it had wounded him when he thought she'd fallen to the walkers, how much worse it must have been for her to have him vanish and know that he had consciously chosen to leave. He knew that particular anguish well, had carried it himself for years when he believed his mother had purposely left him behind...

Suddenly weary beyond words, Daryl flopped down onto Carol's bunk and cradled his head in his hands. What the fuck was wrong with him? How could he ever think that what he'd done was acceptable? He'd _owed_ it to her to come back. At the very least, he should have returned with Rick and the others and talked to her, explained what was happening. Then she would have had a chance to either say goodbye or to come away with him.

He shifted position until he had one leg stretched out before him, cushioning his back against the cold, hard bed frame with Carol's pillow. She would have come, he knew...would not have hesitated had he given her that option. And as uncertain and dangerous as being on the road again would have been, at least they would have been together for whatever time they had left. Merle was back but without Carol to love, Daryl had never felt more alone.

What the hell was the point of thinkin' about what he coulda done, what choices he shoulda made? Daryl grabbed one of his ruined bolts from off the floor and fidgeted distractedly with the broken tip, trying to sort through the conflicts roiling inside of him. He was severely pissed... at Merle for putting him into an impossible position, but at himself, too, for how badly he'd handled it. He felt trapped by circumstances, his instincts telling him that the prison was a deathtrap even while he knew in his heart he would defend it against attack with his last breath. And he was deeply ashamed at failing to live up to Carol's expectations of him, at failing to prove himself better than his upbringing had led so many others to believe.

It was in the midst of this emotional turmoil that Carol came around the corner, pausing in the doorway when she saw him reclined on her bed.

"I haven't had a chance to say, I'm glad you came back," she said, her expression somewhat guarded.

"To what?" he said, glancing around her cell in disdain. "All this?"

"This is our home," she replied, daring to come in and sit on a stool a few feet away from the bed.

"This is a tomb," he rasped, finally daring to meet her gaze. He saw pain flicker in her eyes the moment he said it and felt even worse. He let it go, though, without trying to explain what he really meant. It was just as well if she thought he'd intended it as a slight of some sort...the sooner she walked away from him, the better. And if she hated him at the end of it all, maybe it would make it so much easier for her in the long run.

She looked away, her face drawn in sadness. It struck him then, seeing how the soft light from the windows formed a pale white aura around her face, how truly beautiful she was, how much he'd missed just being this close to her. He wished he could comfort her, could take her in his arms and fix everything with a kiss, but he knew he'd forever lost the right to touch her.

"That's what T-Dog called it," she said softly, catching and holding his gaze again as she spoke. "I thought he was right – 'til you found me."

His firm resolve to keep her at a distance shattered apart when he saw the undiminished love and compassion on her face. He stared at her for a few seconds before giving her a small smile, his frustration and anger abruptly doused by her cool, soothing presence. The back of his throat began to ache, almost as if he was about to cry, and he hung his head in shame that he'd ever believed he could push her away so easily.

"He's your brother but he's not good for you," she added gravely, and he glanced up again at her words. He'd been right when he told Rick she'd understand...it was clear that she knew him better than anyone else, and could sense the source of his distress without even being told what was at the root of it. "Don't let him bring you down. After all, look how far you've come."

He arched his eyebrow in surprised disbelief and scanned the cramped little cell. Bluish paint was peeling off the walls in chunks, rust-stained plumbing was leaking water onto the floor, and the dank stench of damp cement hung heavy in the air. As he met her gaze again she smiled mischievously and he snorted in shared amusement, the bleak humour of their situation inescapable.

That ability to make him smile, to help him find something in their stark frikkin' lives to laugh about…it was just one more thing to love about her.

Daryl grew serious again, letting seconds of silence tick by between them as he struggled to find the right words. "Carol…I know there's nothin' I can say…"

"You made the decision you felt you had to make," she cut in, moving from the stool to sit beside him on the mattress. "Maggie told me that they made you choose. I guess after what happened between them and Merle at Woodbury, I can't blame Rick for forcing the issue, but Daryl…how could you _not_ go with your brother? I remember how despondent you were, those first few days after he disappeared. There isn't one of us here who wouldn't want a second chance like that with someone we loved and lost."

She reached up and shyly stroked his bare forearm, her warmth and strength moving through him like a balm. "But I'm not going to lie and tell you that it didn't hurt, believing you were gone for good. When Rick came through those gates without you…"

Carol turned her head, covering her mouth with a trembling hand and closing her eyes as the memory of that moment overcame her. Glistening tears clung to the dark fans of her lashes where they rested on her cheeks, and Daryl's heart lurched painfully as he witnessed for himself her raw, crushing sorrow.

He instantly tossed the bolt aside and sat up far enough that he could gather her gently against him. "Shhhh...I'm sorry, so sorry. I'll ain't ever gonna leave you behind like that again. Nothin' short of death will keep me away, I swear."

She wept quietly into the crook of his neck, her arms tightening around his ribs as he slowly rubbed her back and rocked her. God, it was so good to be holding her again...to feel _whole_ again. Even though he'd wounded her so badly, she had come back to him. Was still his. He going to treat her love like the gift it was from this point on, even if he wasn't worthy of it.

It wasn't until he saw his hands, stained and grimy against her clean, pale skin, that he realized he hadn't washed for days...and likely smelled like it, too. If Carol noticed, though, it didn't seem to matter to her. As her sobs trailed off into sniffles, she gradually relaxed in his arms, tucking her head up under his chin and stretching her legs over his on the narrow bed.

He sighed peacefully, leaning his head back against the pillow and closing his eyes for the first time since the rescue party had set out for Woodbury. If he had any sense, he would forego a nap and get washed up so he could show Carol exactly how much she meant to him, and how lost he had been without her. But the weight of her body pinning his to the mattress felt too good to leave, even for the time it would take to rinse away the filth. There would be time enough later for a bath...time enough, too, to make love to her with such passion that she might even forget he was ever gone at all. For now, though, he had all he wanted in the world and more than he deserved, and he let fatigue gradually claim him.

~fin~


End file.
